


Cherish

by vinyl_octopus



Series: Tumblr prompt fills [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Asexual Character, Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinyl_octopus/pseuds/vinyl_octopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In response to this Tumblr prompt from tracionn: I once, and someone else did too, prompted a Marlas fic in which Martin is asexual (but still feeling romantic attraction) and fears Douglas won't understand. But if course Douglas does and loves just to cuddle, soothe and be domestic. And maybe the larger part about their comfort and understanding? That'd be so great, honestly!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherish

Dinner had been wonderful. Soft candlelight, an unexpected string quartet playing in the central piazza, sumptuous food and easy conversation. All in all, it was quite possibly the most romantic evening of Martin's life. But now they were away from the safety of the crowd. They were wandering back to the hotel, shoulders bumping, and though conversation was still flowing, light jokes and warm glances, there was a knot of worry developing in Martin’s stomach. 

Maybe this time would be different. He wanted it to be different. But that sense of expectation in the atmosphere was suffocating him even in the open air of the street. 

The brush of Douglas’s fingers against his own led to them finishing the walk hand-in-hand. Martin tried not to cling. Douglas made the offer of a nightcap in the hotel bar, but not only was the bar a bit too seedy and empty, Martin was getting to the agitated state where he needed to get this over with. 

 

They made it back to their shared room. With the door finally closed behind them Martin was left standing awkwardly, adjusting his cuffs, until Douglas stepped forward to still his nervous hands. 

"It's been a lovely evening, but... Did _you_ enjoy yourself?" 

“Of course!” Martin looked up, alarmed. 

Douglas rubbed his shoulders soothingly. “You seem nervous. I have no objection if we end the evening here. I know we’re sharing a room anyway, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. I don't want to push, or to rush this. I enjoy your company.” 

Martin was no fool. He could see the flush of... Well, he supposed it was desire... on Douglas's face. A rarity for it to be aimed at him, but he knew what was expected in these situations. 

“No. Douglas, I...” Words failed, so he moved to demonstrate, catching Douglas’s lips in an awkward but heartfelt kiss. 

Douglas flinched in obvious surprise before kissing back with enthusiasm. 

It was lovely. A perfect match to their romantic night out; this was a kiss that reflected all the warmth and comfort and softness of their evening. Martin felt Douglas melt into it. 

Martin... Was enjoying it, but his mind had already fast-forwarded to the next step and his heart was pounding with anxiety. He tried to concentrate on the feeling of Douglas’s lips pressing warmly against his. The comforting security of his broad chest. 

Douglas wrapped his arms around Martin; Martin clenched his fists in the back of Douglas’s jacket. 

God how he wanted it to be different this time. 

_This_ felt so good. So right. Surely this time he could make it through? With the right person? 

He scrunched his eyes shut and concentrated on relaxing and enjoying the moment. 

Gradually he became aware that Douglas had loosened his embrace. Slowed his kisses. Was stroking at his tense jaw and gazing with concern – not lust. 

"Is... Is everything all right, Douglas?" 

"You're asking me?” Douglas’s voice was low, cautious. "Why did you kiss me, Martin?" 

The fiery heat of the flush that washed over his face did nothing to melt the icy tumour low in his gut. "Because I..." Martin unclenched his jaw and raised his own hand to stroke Douglas's dear face. "I wanted to." 

"Are you sure? You seem very…" 

"I just... This is all I want." Martin swallowed and glanced at Douglas. "For now," he clarified, quickly. 

A brief frown flickered over Douglas’s face. "I had no intention of taking this any further, Martin. Tonight – or at all, if you don't want." 

He obviously felt all the tension leave Martin's body. If anything he looked more concerned, but he adopted a teasing tone and all he said was, "This has been a delightful evening. If sir would permit, I would like to repeat the experience, perhaps when we are back home? But for now, we have a flight tomorrow, I think we should probably get some sleep." 

Martin smiled hesitantly and was rewarded with a warm, chaste kiss and a renewed hug before they separated and each made their way to their own twin bed. 

Martin lay awake long into the night, simultaneously grateful for the reprieve and anxious that the inevitable blow was yet to fall. 

 

***

 

Another post-van-job dinner at Douglas's home. A not-so-subtle invitation to stay the night. Martin was a wreck of anticipation and nerves. He'd been psyching himself up all day. All week. 

They spent a cosy evening cooking in Douglas’s kitchen. It almost felt like home to Martin, by now. He knew his way around the cupboards and was comfortable enough with their “understanding” now to flick soap suds at Douglas during the gently flirtatious banter they had settled into during the washing up portion of the evening. 

Douglas wrapped around him as they mock-waltzed to the radio was nothing short of sublime. But as he sensed Douglas intentions becoming a little more lascivious, he found himself freezing up again. 

_You want this,_ he reminded himself. _You love Douglas. You can make this work. He won't hurt you. Relax._

It was no good. Douglas had done nothing more than steer them into a little kissing, which Martin genuinely did enjoy. But not two doors away was the bedroom. Martin pushed gently at Douglas’s arms as a wave of sickness rolled over him. It wasn't a lie when he told Douglas he felt unwell, but he knew the cause was nerves and not the lunchtime sandwich he claimed. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” 

Nerves and despair. 

“No. I'll be fine. I think I just... Need to lie down.” 

In his heart of hearts, he knew he would not be able to go through with this. To give Douglas what he wanted. 

“Right.” Douglas rubbed his neck, looking awkward. “Well, I hadn't… That is to say, I can make up the spare room if you like. If you don't want to...” 

But he couldn’t give Douglas up. He’d come so close. 

"I... I wouldn’t mind sharing with you, if that won't be... If... You..." 

Douglas pressed a relieved kiss to Martin’s brow. “Of course that's fine, if you think you'll be comfortable.” 

"I've been looking forward to it," Martin said thoughtlessly then felt the blood leave his face. “But-but I don't think... That I…is…” He waved a hand to indicate himself and his “illness”. “I'm not sure I'll be up to...” 

Douglas’s face cleared. “Just sleeping, sweetheart. It's fine.” 

 

***

 

Martin came to snuggled warmly into Douglas’s side, a heavy arm holding him secure as Douglas continued to doze. He nuzzled affectionately at the broad chest beneath his cheek before he realised his lower half was also entangled – and pressing incriminatingly into Douglas's hip. He froze. Completely. Then tried to shuffle back. 

The arm tightened and Martin suppressed the lump in his throat. Clenched his fist beneath him. 

Douglas turned sleepily and brushed a kiss against the top of his head. "It's all right." 

Martin swallowed. Risked a glance down. Not all of Douglas was sleepy. He clamped his teeth in anticipation. Pushed ever so slightly to try to move backwards. 

Douglas stirred awake a little further, rubbing his hand over Martin's back. "Ignore it. I was comfortable and so were you." Another kiss to his hair and the soothing back strokes continued, but otherwise Douglas was just lying there. Making no demands. 

In fact he seemed to be dozing off again. 

As Douglas’s back rub slowed and his arm loosened, Martin began to relax. Let himself drop back down to the mattress. But took advantage of the moment to shift his hips back several inches. 

Douglas’s sleep-heavy arm drifted back up to Martin’s shoulders, his fingers tangling gently in Martin’s hair. He turned his head so his lips were resting against Martin’s slightly furrowed brow but, Martin noticed, also tilted his hips so they were twisted away from Martin. A few seconds later Douglas was plainly fast asleep in this somewhat contorted position. 

Martin lay awake for another hour, confusion and hope preventing him from completely giving in to sleep, but eventually he succumbed to the warmth and comfort of the bed and its occupant. 

 

When he awoke the next time, he was alone. Soft sunlight easing in around the curtains above the bed, and the low hum of Douglas’s singing oozing under the door. He took a moment to soak in the tranquillity before letting the buzzing anxiety sparking across his skin settle back into his stomach with an icy thud as he pulled Douglas’s spare robe from the back of the door. He tightened the belt protectively as he wandered into the kitchen. 

“Ah! You’re awake!” Douglas had ceased his singing and was positively beaming at him from the stovetop where he was flipping a – naturally, perfectly formed – pancake. “I do hope sir slept well?” 

Martin blinked. The kitchen table had clearly been set to impress. Goodness knows where Douglas had got flowers at this time of the morning. A jug of clearly freshly-squeezed juice sat in the centre, surrounded by jam and syrup and every other potential pancake topping one could imagine. The cafetiére was also ready and waiting for someone to press down the plunger. 

Martin looked around him, all of a dither. He’d been on the wrong end of enough lectures about “blue balls” and “teasing” to be thrown by this romantic feast and Douglas’s warm welcome. Despite the singing, he’d come prepared for either an argument or silent treatment. 

Douglas’s beam had lost a little brightness. He switched off the stove and deposited what appeared to be the last of an enormous stack of pancakes inside the oven to keep warm, then made his way slowly to where Martin was fiddling with the ends of his robe belt. 

He placed a hand on each shoulder and nudged Martin’s face with his nose until they were looking eye to eye. “Pancakes acceptable this morning? I didn’t know what you’d feel like.” 

Martin managed an eloquent stutter. 

Douglas frowned, ready to pull away. Martin stopped him with a hand on each of Douglas’s arms, pulling slightly. Unsure what he was really asking for. 

Douglas wound his arms around Martin and pulled him in for a bear hug, pressing his nose deep in the nape of Martin’s neck and kissing him there. 

Martin held on tight, heart thundering, eyes shut, and exhaled from the very depths of his soul. Douglas tried to let go. Martin held on even harder, releasing a tiny squeak of refusal. Douglas pulled him back in and rubbed his face soothingly against Martin’s hair. 

They stood there for what was probably only 5 minutes but felt like an hour before Martin muttered something into Douglas’s chest. It might have been “sorry”, it might have been “thank you”. It was both. Douglas released him with a final squeeze and a firm, solid kiss to the top of his head, then pulled a chair out. 

“Sit. I’ll get breakfast. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” 

“I…” Martin’s throat was too thick, the air too heavy for him to respond. 

Douglas ran a reassuring hand through his curls before turning back to the oven with mitts in hand. 

“Asexual, I assume?” he said from the depths of the Smeg, as casually as if he were offering milk or sugar for tea. 

Martin started. Heart hammering again, ice fear running over him. He pulled the dressing gown closer, but Douglas wasn’t even looking at him, hadn’t changed tone or reaction as he deposited first a dish of perfectly cooked pancakes then deliciously crisp bacon on the table, and a gentle brush against Martin’s shoulder. 

Martin’s appetite had fled and was probably hitching a ride down the street to the next town by now. 

Douglas sat opposite his panicking houseguest, then leaned over to push down the plunger on the coffee and finally looked at Martin. 

“Christ, Martin. You’re white as a sheet. I’m sorry. Was that a bit too…?” He got up, cautiously, clearly worried Martin would spook, then crouched down next to Martin’s chair. He peeled one of Martin’s hands from where it was embedded in the towelling of his robe and began stroking out the tension. “It’s all right. I didn’t mean to… well. I just assumed.” 

“No. You’re… you’re right.” Martin slumped. “I was just hoping.” 

“For what? I meant what I said when we were away, Martin. I enjoy your company. I am happy to keep this, between us, as it is. As long as _you’re_ happy.” He hesitated. Looked down at where he was caressing Martin’s hand. Made to let go – “it doesn’t have to be as much as it is, if you don’t want. Hell, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with this, with any of this.” 

Martin twisted his wrist to clutch at Douglas’s retreating hand. “No. this. I like this. Contact. And the… um…” 

“Affection?” 

“Yes. The hugging and the uh…” 

“Kissing?” 

Martin could feel he was blushing. “Yes.” 

“But nothing more?” 

Martin swallowed the sick feeling. “No.” He looked down. 

Douglas brushed a hand under his chin, “That’s perfectly okay, Martin. I’d rather you tell me. Don’t pretend. Don’t ever force yourself.” 

Martin worried at his lip. “But what about… how are we… what if you?” So many questions. He couldn’t verbalise any of them. 

Douglas leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. “There’s no need to worry about any of that. This,” he squeezed Martin’s hand and intensified his stare, “is much more important. Much more valuable. Besides,” the mischievous glint in Douglas’s eyes was somehow more reassuring than any soft words, “ _Sky God_ , remember? Surely you don’t think that title is just reserved for _sex_?” 

“Well, I…” Actually, that was exactly what Martin had thought. 

Douglas grimaced, and hauled himself to his knees with clear reluctance and a loud crack of his joints, tugging the nearest chair so he could sit as close to Martin as possible. 

“It’s the fine things in life I cherish, Martin. And you are one of the finest things in my life. Sex is easy,” he squeezed Martin’s hand apologetically against the offended protestation, “it _can_ be easy, for some. But romance? _Love_? Love is much trickier. And worth hanging on to. I could go the rest of my life without sex, but love? Affection? Those are things worth cherishing.” 

Douglas’s tone was light and his face betrayed none of the intensity that his words might otherwise have conveyed, but he had a grip on Martin’s knee that was tight enough be painful. It was this inadvertent display of nerves that made him believe Douglas more than anything else. 

He gripped Douglas’s other hand tighter, where they were still clasped, and offered his first genuine smile of the morning. 

Blood flow was restored to his leg. 

“Now,” said Douglas, with a cheery pat to said leg and releasing Martin’s other hand, “if you’ve no objections, I’d rather like to see you enjoy this breakfast I spent the past hour putting together. And then perhaps, I thought maybe a day trip to Duxford?” 

Martin pulled Douglas back for a quick peck on the lips. “That sounds wonderful,” he nodded shyly at the vast breakfast spread before them, “and I promise I will cherish every morsel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently the prompt was itself prompted by these prompts: <http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=13011681#cmt13011681> and <http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4207.html?thread=5851759#cmt5851759> which I did read as well and was thus influenced by.
> 
> This prompt was a definite challenge for me. Not sure this completely fulfills any of these prompts and I am keenly aware of this being OOC, but I promised to post so...


End file.
